Moments In Between
by Busty Galore
Summary: My first fic. After I finished DA2, I wondered about the time between Acts and what Varric didn't tell. This is a series of one-shots to fulfill that question. New update, promise more Anders soon.
1. Unexpected Visit

**Unexpected Visit**

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><p>The smell - that was the first thing he didn't trust about this city. It wasn't so bad up top where sunlight touched, but down here in what was called the 'Undercity' by locals it collected in shadows like a mist, trying to spread out and suffocate those that would call this place home.<p>

Aramil hated it; there was something about the place that reminded him of years past growing up in the tower. He cringed as he drew another breath of the foul air into his lungs. It wasn't just down here - it was the whole city that made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. He recalled reading about Kirkwall back in the tower, when he spent his free time reading any book he could get his hands on in the Circle's library. Being here though, no amount of texts could prepare him for this. It was as if he could _almost_ taste the Veil; he had to keep his guard up, else risk catching little glimpses of shadowy figures in the corner of his eye.

He'd rather have just had given this place a wide berth on his trip back to Ferelden from Antiva. Hell, he'd rather he was still in Antiva, at his Crow's side, but he had received rumors about a witch matching Morrigan's description that forced him to part from his lover once again. Now this, the rumors coming out from Kirkwall just had to catch his interest, he found himself in this 'Darktown', following rumors of a healer who had set up a free clinic. Not just any healer, though - one that '_used to be a Warden'_, as the rumor went.

He cringed as he stepped in something foul. At lease he wore actual boots here, unlike the flimsier footwear that seemed to be the norm for elves here.

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><p>Anders cursed at the knocking at his clinic's door. It was rare to have someone come once the lamps were out at the end of the day. It was not unheard of, though, and if someone did come, it was with frantic banging and panicked shouts. This had neither, and his friends knew he could be reached at Hawke's estate, so Anders didn't look up from his tidying as he shouted at whoever to come back tomorrow. He was done for the day and all he wished for was to get out of here, maybe stop at the Hanged Man for a bit and then fall into that delightful bed he shared in Hightown.<p>

The sound of a door opening made him realized he would have to postpone all of that until he made this fool realize that unless they had a sword sticking out of their chest, or darkspawn gnawing on their ankles, that it could wait for the morning. He was even in the middle of stating just that as he turned around until he actually saw who had entered and the words died on his lips, the annoyed look he had on his face turning to shock.

"You wouldn't actually let a darkspawn make a meal of my limbs now, would you?"

Aramil Surana turned from shutting the door behind him, a thin brow raised, as he continued in. His footsteps echoed with the sound of the heavy silverite armor he wore, crafted by Master Wade for certain by craft and detail, Vigilance's pommel sticking out behind one of his shoulders. The corner of the elf's mouth lifted in a smirk as he took in Anders' expression before he continued, "Surely you wouldn't leave me to bleed out, or _worse_, make me seek out that old Miss 'The-Fade-shines-out-of-my-ass' Wynne instead."

Anders was thankful he had been cleaning off table just a few moments before as apparently his legs had decided to give out on him. He leaned back against the wood as he took his shock in- of all the people he might have expected, his ex-Commander was definitely sitting at the bottom of his list. There was no doubt it was him though; the past few years apparently had been kinder to Aramil than they were to him. The harsh look and creased brow he remembered the Commander having back in Ferelden from dealing with the Blight and then Amaranthine had faded away, leaving the mage looking almost like the old slightly amused Aramil from back in the Circle, though nowhere near as pale as he remembered the elf being back then. Then of course there was his hair - that deep red color left no mistake of who it was. It was still long and pulled back in a pony tail with long bangs to frame his now-tanned face. Anders recalled how he used to be so amused at Aramil's hair back in the tower, many a female apprentice used to be jealous at just how good he, a _male elf_ of all things, could pull off such a look while at the same time leave Greagoir and the other Templars sputtering at the wrong of him doing so. He supposed it had been the other mage's way to rebel back then.

Realizing he was being rude and staring at Aramil for a good few moments now, forced himself to straighten up, clearing his throat before speaking. "I-Er, never that. You would probably let yourself bleed out rather than listen to another of the old bat's lectures." He couldn't help but smile slightly, just seeing his old friend made part of his old self surface. "Of all the things, I never would of expected to see you here.."

Aramil laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, well, I happened to be in the neighborhood and heard the most interesting of rumors about Kirkwall's champion and her Warden apostate in a city ran by Templars," he raised his gauntleted hands palm up, as if such things were normal. "Figured it would be impolite not to visit."

Anders folded his arms over his chest, knowing what exactly his ex-Commanders' visit could mean. "Did they send you to bring me back? I'm not returning to those bastards."

Aramil blinked, frowning slightly before crossing his own arms. "No. I'm not here on behalf of the Wardens. They've not been that pleased with me either, just starting to get over the whole 'Architect business'.."

Anders grimaced at the mention of that, and Justice stirred uncomfortably. Sparing the Architect had been the one of the few things that he, both of them, had disagreed strongly about with their Commander back then. Pushing the feeling back down, he let out a sigh. "Yes, well. I suppose that did end up working well for you. There have been fewer raids and sightings on the surface over the years.."

The other mage's face fell slightly at his curt tone and Anders quickly regretted his choice of words. "I'm sorry, it's not important anymore.. please, come sit and tell me why of all places you decided to visit this blighted city." He moved to offer Aramil a seat and joined him at the table behind him.

Aramil nodded, moving to take a seat as Anders did the same, drawing and resting his sword against the table before the elf rested his elbows on the wooden surface. "Honestly, I'm on my way back from Antiva. I shall miss the place, it was most.. entertaining.. compared to our Ferelden, in the good sense." The elf's lips twitched in a smile but it drop as his face became more serious, "I have heard rumors of this place, not just of its Champion, but other things as well that I find myself concerned with. I have personal reasons to return to Ferelden, so I will book passage across the sea here and see for myself if the rumors speak true."

Anders frowned at the other's words. "Then why come down to here, to me? Unless I'm mistaken, you're still advisor to Ferelden's king, you have all rights to announce yourself at court."

Again that thin brow raised on Aramil's face as he considered. "Me? An armored elf walking around with a sword almost longer than himself strapped to his back, announce himself to the city? They would doubt me if I told them who I am. They should as well, as from all accounts, Alistair's Chancellor is a mage, Maker forbid, and mages wear robes. Such a guest wouldn't be here without his own guard either." He spread his arms to remind Anders of just how he was dressed, "Yet I walk around as if a warrior, not a mage, with no guards. I am no chancellor in their eyes. As it is, I've already turned Denerim on its head, I doubt Kirkwall would allow me to do just the same."

Anders scoffed, leaning back as he crossed his arms. "You clearly haven't met Marian then, she's as bad as you and just as frightening at times. She has left many nobles fuming at how quickly she rises."

That amused smirk returned to Aramil's face. "A fine woman for sure then. Honestly though, I still consider you a friend, and if anything, court has taught me it is that the dirty underbelly of any city is where one goes to find the actual goings-on. I trust your words over any insincere noble."

Letting out a sigh, Anders leaned forward, resting his own elbows on the table. "In that case, I hate to say things are as bad as you've probably heard." He scowled, his voice turning more bitter as he went on, "Meredith is a tyrant. The mages struggle and push under her control but it only causes her to tighten her fist around them more. Each month, there are more tranquil, more stories of abuse. It's gotten to the point where those that don't try to escape are beginning to look to blood magic I fear. I've helped as many as I can, but each time becomes more of a peril as the Knight-Commander's fist grips harder."

Aramil's brows creased as he listened. "Why does the Grand Cleric not intervene? The Chantry governs the Templars, and the Knight-Commander is clearly abusing her position at this point, by law the Grand Cleric has the right to force her to step down."

Anders let out a bark of laughter, his voice dripping with scorn. "Elthina says she is trying to keep the peace, intervening when it gets to out of hand, but it's clear Meredith walks over her in her old age. When she does acts, it's only to cause a stalemate. She places a lid on the cauldron that threatens to overflow." A dark look passed over his face, "Eventfully it will not be enough.

Aramil let out a sign as he ran his hands over his face. "It is clearly worse than I hoped... I'm sorry." He chewed on his bottom lip, an old tick that surfaced when he was getting frustrated. "I feel I made the correct choice in finding you, instead of your suggestion of announcing myself at court. I would not be able sit by and let this continue to happen.."

Anger surged through Anders at Aramil's words. _He is here but he just steps to the side so easily in the face of oppression. He cowers just like the First Enchanter, when he should take action! _Justice raged inside of him as his hands gripped the edge of the table, leaning forward as he glared at the elf. "So instead you allow this? You come to me instead when it is your right as a free mage who has the ability to step in and help those who are being oppressed?"

Aramil flashed him a harsh look, his jaw tightening as he quietly spoke. "It is never as simple as that, you should know this by now. I would gladly 'convince' the Grand Cleric at how much of a fool she is, and do much worse to the Knight-Commander, but in doing so, I risk what isn't mine to risk. Ferelden is still recovering from the Blight and the Mother, if I acted here, I'd risk war between us." His words shot through Anders, making him realize just how much the man across from him had changed over the years. "I would leave their cursed Circle a smoldering ruin. My actions would be seen as Alistair's and the other cities in the Marshes would rise up and march in retribution. Innocents would die because I'm no longer just a person in everyone's eyes; I'm a symbol for a nation."

Anders' shoulders slumped in defeat, the need for vengeance roiling inside of him, but his old Commander's words had the harsh ring of truth to them. "It's just so hard, being here, seeing what it happening around you. Having the power to do something, but.. Even now, I fear one day Hawke's open support won't be enough."

Aramil let out a sigh, the harshness fading to sorrow. "I know, believe me, I know.." He shifted in his seat as he tried to get comfortable again, his plate armor clinking against the mail he wore under, "Power confines us, every action we take causes reactions that effect those that might not even be around us."

Aramil's shoulders slumped. "It seems I escape from one cage to just to find myself in another, this one crafted by my own doing.."

Anders winced at the elf's words, the rising tide of vengeance receding. "I hate it when you're right."

Aramil chuckled softly as he smiled weakly at the other man. "You're not the only one. You'll get used to it."

Anders shot Aramil a look that tried to be annoyed but ended up being more amused. "Maker's breath, elf, you're worse than the damned Qunari." He paused as if remembering something suddenly held her hand in interruption before standing up at the table. "I forgot. I have something I think you might be interested in."

Aramil tilted his head as the other mage moved to the wall in the back of the room, kneeling down and running his fingers against the wooden panels as if feeling for something. Finding the hidden catch, a small part of the wall shifted and he removed a small panel of wood to reveal a hidden cache big enough to store a few small items. He pulled out a wrapped bundle before replacing the panel and making sure it was hidden again before moving back to the table and placing the bundle down in front of Aramil.

"A few years back, we found a courier that had been ambushed. Once we clearly them out, we found out he was carrying a package from Soldier's Peak to be deliver to the Wardens. It had some papers and a vial," he explained awkwardly as he motioned for Aramil to open it. "Marian entrusted me with carrying them, since I was a Warden. We did take them to the drop off that was stated in the note for in case anything prevented them from being delievered by hand. But not before I.. uh, managed to make a copy of the notes and kept the vial.. I figured in case if our paths ever crossed again, since you left Amaranthine before me.."

Aramil raised a brow before opening the bundle, picking up the vial and giving it a glance before placing it down and began reading the papers. His curiosity quickly changing to shock and then surprise as he read more, quickly going through the next few papers. "Incredible! I would never have realized there was such a connection!" His voice was almost gleeful as he flipped through the notes. "The Architect's insight probably shaved years off from this discovery."

Anders shifted uncomfortably at Aramil's delight. He had read those notes, he knew what Aramil was researching and the thought sent cold shivers down his spine. Thedas was better off not knowing how much the Hero of the Fifth Blight and his odd allies dealt in blood magic. Surely if the truth every came out that a blood mage held heavy sway in Ferelden's court, right under a Grand Cleric's nose, there would be no doubt that an Exalted March would be called before the year was out.

Aramil look up, his mouth opening and shutting as if he was about to speak, but something held him back. His eyes got a faraway look as he lowered the papers and turned his face towards the door. "Company."

His nostrils flared as he stood up slowly. "One smells of lyrium, the other.." The hand that had been moving to his weapon paused and he blinked in confusion. "..blood magic."

Aramil's words were forgotten as the door to the clinic banged open as it was kicked in, revealing Fenris, whose hands were full with Hawke leaning against him, the elf cursed as he adjusted Hawke's arm over his shoulder as he tried to guide her in. The woman was clearly was having difficulty moving and wouldn't have made it this far without Fenris to support her weight.

"Damnit woman, move! Mage!" Fenris shouted as Anders rushed over, getting Marian's other arm over his neck and together quickly got her over to the nearest cot.

Anders didn't waste time, turning the woman's head to get a look at her, his hands checking over her for any wounds. Panic threatened to bubble its way up his throat as he listened to his beloved's shallow, wet gasps, her chest heaving quickly as her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. Her head rolled under his touch, eyes half lidded. She was clearly not aware of her surroundings.

Anders' lips grew flat in dread. "What happened?"

Fenris' hands clenched and unclenched into fists, clearly aggravated over Hawke's state. "We were heading to the Hanged Man when trouble found us. Mages." His upper lip twitched in disdain, but his look soften when he glanced down to Hawke. How he wanted to help her, but he would only get in the way at this point. He looked back to Anders, his face turning to disdain again. "They mistook us for Templars, even after Hawke foolishly tried to reason with them. Would have been fine, but one managed to get to her blind side, and used blood magic. This is what your precious mages have turned to." He finished with a snarl.

Aramil moved to the other side of the cot, his glaze focused on Hawke as his lips set in a sad, knowing smile. He could feel the magic coursing through her, ravaging her insides and threatening to do more harm if anyone tried to correct it. He could feel it as if it was his own pulse.

He kneeled down next to her, a hand reaching up to lift a heavy eye lid so he could check her eyes. "She's hemorrhaging.."

Fenris jumped at the other elf's words, not noticing him before now. "Who are..", he shook his head, questions could wait for later. "Then heal her, mage."

Anders didn't need to be told twice as he lifted his hands and began to draw forth energy but a tight grip around his wrist stopped him. His head shot up in anger at the interruption.

Catching Anders' attention, Aramil shook his head before glancing over the human's shoulder to Fenris then back to Anders sharply. "If you want her to live, get him out of here and then come assist me."

Understanding shot through Anders, causing him to scramble to his feet. How thankful he was that Fenris was too confused at the moment at what was going on, as he doubted he could have forced the elf to move otherwise. Anders was stronger than most realized, but he knew the elf warrior was all corded muscle. It wasn't until he almost had Fenris to the door that the elf snapped out of his fog and shot Anders a look, opening his mouth as if to protest. But it wasn't some request Aramil had given or blood magic compelling him - it was an order from his Commander. Even after these years, that voice had even caused Justice to pause.

He gave Fenris an apologetic look as he forced him out the door, pausing as he began to shut the door. "Just wait out here, don't worry, she's in good hands."

Fenris' jaw clenched as he just nodded slightly.

Anders finished shutting the door and quickly turned back to Aramil and Hawke.

Aramil had casted a gauntlet to the ground and undone Hawke's leather vest and undershirt, revealing her chest. Her skin was clammy with a thin covering of sweat; her armor had hidden angry bruises. He ran his freed hand gently over the pale flesh. "It attacks from here, with each heart beat it spreads further. The spell makes it see normal magic as an assault, and attacks the caster." He looked at Anders, his hand remaining over Hawke's chest. "I will unravel this, but it won't stop the bleeding."

Anders glanced down to Marian, swallowing his fear. _She'll be fine, she's been through worse. She'll be making horrible jokes again in no time._ He tried to convince himself, but it felt hollow even in his head. "Well then, let's not waste time.. After you."

Aramil nodded sharply, closing his eyes as he placed his hand on her chest. Blood began to flow down his exposed arm, pooling around his hand as he focused on his task. He ignored the feeling, Anders knew the price of his help, and Aramil would use his own life blood in payment. Past experiments by Avernus allowed the elven Warden to summon forth his own blood at will, normally used as a weapon against darkspawn, this would be new for him in using it to help heal someone.

Aramil's brow creased as he focused on unweaving the spell. He began at the spell's core, feeling it pulse like a second heartbeat under his hand, his blood magic flowed over it, embracing it gently as it entangled with the similar magic until it was as if his own casting. Sweat broke out on his brow as his other hand gripped the woman's shoulder, only partly aware that the body underneath him had arched and mouth opened to scream in protest as more blood magic washed over her. If he stopped now, he risked the spell rebounding on both of them and this would be all for naught. His lips twisted in a snarl as he continued, drawing the spell back into him, feeling its corruption finally releasing the woman's body as it willingly flowed into his own.

_Such hatred, fear.. they _fear_ this much it reflects in their blood._ He gasped for breath, his shoulders shook as he finished, forcing the blood magic back under control once it was hosted inside his body. His mind babbled from the rush. _The Gallows. The Veil so thin. Fear breeds with their Knight-Commander in the center of it._

The rush of healing magic was more refreshing than any breath of air as it entered the quieted body under his grasp. Anders wasted no time once he sensed the magic receding. The bleeding stopped and the damage was healed until Hawke's skin returned to a more normal color, and the bruises and clammy texture faded. Finally Hawke's body relaxed as she slept in a healing state.

Aramil willed his shaking to stop as he removed his hand; his own blood receded leaving only a bloody hand print on Hawke's chest and dried bloody ribbons on his arm. He looked to Anders, noticing the open look of relief on the human's face as he gently stroked Hawke's cheek, causing the woman to murmur in her sleep.

Giving his friend a moment, Aramil went in search for something to clean off the dried blood. Thankfully Anders kept a basin of tepid water not too far off, a stack of mostly-clean towels folded next to it. He damped one and wiped off his arm before returning to Anders and offering him the towel silently.

Anders took it without looking up, cleaning off the bloody print before straightening Hawke's armor. He smiled slightly, knowing how his love would react to waking up to company with her chest hanging out for everyone to see. Even if it was such a delightful chest.

"Well then.." Aramil pushed his hair out of his face before leaning down to pick up his discarded gauntlet and began putting it back on. "Never can have a normal visit, can we?"

Anders finally straighten up as the door opened, reaching out to clasp his friend's arm. "Just like old times."

Aramil grinned, that old cocky gleam in his eyes returning as he returned Anders grasp. "Wouldn't have it any other way. I should get going before today gets even more eventful. Let's continue this over drinks soon, I'll be around until I find a ship to book passage." He looked over the taller man's shoulder, leering at Fenris who had poked his head in now that things seemed to have settled again . "You'll have to introduce me to your new friends, they seem so, delightful."

Anders shook his head as their grasp broke and Aramil made his way out, passing Fenris with only a glance out of the corner of his eye as he left.

Anders could only watch his friend go as Fenris barged in, demanding answers as Anders sat down in fatigue next Hawke's sleeping form in the cot. _Maker.. what have I gotten myself into now?_


	2. Drinks

Even in this lower part of the city, the sun managed to find its way past the tall buildings and through the branches and leaves of the Vhenadahl, to cast a bean of sunlight upon his face.

_How fascinating.._

Aramil enjoyed the feeling, his eyes closed as he tilted his head back some to let the beam rest against his cheek, savoring the spot of warmth as his mind drifted.

_The tree of the People- but do any of us truly understand what that means anymore.. The Dalish say they do, but after so long.._

Images flashed through his head, memories belonging to a forgotten age. Elves in shining armor, wielding the Veil as if any other weapon as they waged battles. Elvish words, names that hadn't been utters for ages, whispered in his head. Like hearing part of a conversation muted by a thick wall, understanding teased him just beyond his reach. Yet in his core, he knew he was one of those warriors, that those words somehow described him, too.

_So much lost, yet by my fumbling in forgotten ruins, a small part of the picture returned.._

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His eyes snapped open as his thoughts were interrupted, turning his head to focus on the speaker.

She was rocking back on her heels, hands clasped behind her back as she watched the leaves above their heads. She wore an outfit of mail and buckles, with a baggy green tunic over it all held in place by a leather belt. Like all the other elves here that he had seen, she wore that flimsy footwear, but unlike most elves here, the dark lines on her face showed her for what she truly was to people who could tell the difference between elves.

_Dalish.._

"The city is so busy and noisy. Down here, the buildings mute some of the sound and all the shadows.. If I shut my eyes, I can almost feel fresh soil under my toes." She smiled as she flexed her feet, closing her eyes as to enjoy the moment.

His glaze drifted back to the tree as a breeze rustled the leaves as he considered her words.

Wandering the streets, he had been taking in the sights and sounds of the city. How these people went about their days, hawking their wares, buying goods in the markets, or just going about their daily lives as if trying to deny the tension building from up top. It puzzled Aramil- who during it all constantly felt as if someone was watching him. Perhaps templars could sense something was off about him while they patrolled, or perhaps people simply took notice that he was an elf but wasn't living in poverty. Or perhaps he was just being paranoid because of his sensitivity to the Fade and how threadbare the Veil was here, in a manner of speaking.

He had eventfully found himself in the city's alienage, where high walls at least managed to give a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

"Shame you can't forget about its smell."

"Oh, it's not so bad. I like to think you get used to it after a while." She smiled, tilting her head to look at Aramil, who was still studying the tree branches. "I'm so sorry. I'm interrupting something, aren't I? You're busy and here I am, rambling."

She brought her hands up to her chest, wringing them as she lowered her head, frowning. "By the Creators. Why can't I figure this out still about strangers? I'm rambling again, sorry."

Aramil blinked as his attention settled on the female elf once more. "Huh? Oh no, you're fine," he said as he smiled to calm the poor girl down. "I just find myself distracted- been walking in the sun too long, I guess."

She returned his smile hesitantly, some of that sudden nervousness fading. "I get like that too- distracted I mean. Or lost. Varric is so helpful though, gave me twine so I can find my way back."

" 'Varric'?" he asked, chuckling softly. There was something about this strange Dalish girl that he couldn't help but like.

"Oh he lives at the Hanged Man, tells the most delightful stories. Some of them are even not about Hawke all the time."

Her mention of the Champion caught him by surprise, causing him to look at her with raised brows. It hadn't even been a full day since he had been down in Anders' clinic; the events of his little visit were still flashing through his mind. "He spins tales about the Champion?"

"Oh yes!" she giggled at his reaction. " He's good friends with her actually. We both are. You should hear one of his tales sometime, Varric loves to share them."

Of all the things she could have said, nothing else could have made Aramil's head spin more. _'Is this city being deceitful about its actual size? I just happen to run into more people that know the Champion by more than title, not even a full day after visiting Anders?' _ He shook his head as laughter threatened to bubble out in hysterics. _'This city really does have something against me!'_

Grinning like a fool - why not, at this point? - he pushed the thoughts aside. 'I should take you up on such an offer, else I might just continue to stand here and catch the sun-sickness. Unless you are busy?"

A smile lit up her face as she quickly nodded her head, never one to pass up on the dwarf's stories. She grabbed his gauntleted hand, leaving him no choice but to follow as she lead him out. "This will be wonderful! Me- making new friends, they'll be so pleased." She giggled again, looking over her shoulder as they finished making their way to the tavern. "You're okay with that, right? Please say you're alright."

It was as if Aramil's head was spinning all over again, but this time from the girl's joy at 'making new friends'. It was contagious, and he couldn't help himself smiling from it; it was such a nice change of pace. "How could I say no now? My new friend has to have a name though, no?"

She let go of him, reaching the door of their destination. "Oh right, it's Merrill."

Aramil reached over her shoulder to open the door open for them as they walked in. It was dark inside, the few windows that did let in light were high up and only increased the contrast between the light, darkness, and the smokiness inside. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust from the brightness outside, in which they were forced to the side to let a group of leaving patrons by. There was a commotion over by the bar as they began moving through the taproom, but his head was turned to speak to Merrill when the sound of rushed footsteps caused him to look away.

"Twitch!"

His jaw dropped in surprise as a body tackled him, doubling him over onto the ground by the sudden attack. His hands shot up defensively, surprise turning to fury at the stranger on top of him. Grabbing arms, he began to roll his hips to force the body under -_Why don't they resist?_- before stopping suddenly as his eyes finally finished adjusting.

* * *

><p>Merrill blinked at the sight before her. Confused at why Isabela had jumped her new friend, and was now sitting on top of him as he was sprawled out on the Hanged Man's floor, smirking at her captured prey. Clearly, Merrill went for the obvious question about this turn of events.<p>

"Your name is 'Twitch'?"

* * *

><p>Aramil looked up at the Rivaini on top of him, who had now grabbed his arms and used her weight to pin them down above his head. Once again this city managed to turn him on his head. The confusion was clearly written on his face, and honestly he had no idea what to say at this point. He just <em>happened<em> to run into someone he hadn't seen since, well - the Blight.

"My dear.. has my stunning beauty left the stoic Warden speechless?", Isabela raised a brow slightly at Aramil as she rolled her hips against him, leaning down as she spoke- to give him a better view. "Or, maybe.. you got smacked around a few good times by an ogre. Nothing like a good smacking."

She laughed as she finally let Aramil free, giving him a hand up once she got up on her feet again. "I've not had a decent one myself recently. Must be something in the drinks here; after a man has a few, they get rudder problems. If you know what I mean."

Aramil shook his head after Isabela helped him up, he tried to get some of the dirt off of him before reaching down to pick up his sword- it had thankfully escaped and clattered to the side before he was down on the ground, inside of digging into his back while he was pinned down.

"Isabela, shouldn't you be out at sea?" He crossed his arms at her- he had gotten a good smell of her just moments before, before breaking out in a grin. "Or have you picked up raiding bars for their drink since the last time we met?"

"Hah! Something tells me you're new in town, if you think Rivaini should be out at sea instead of drinking."

He turned to face the new speaker, now a dwarf, and a beardless one, of all things.

"Varric!" Merrill grabbed Aramil's arm, squeezing it in excitement. "Look at who I brought! A new friend named Twitch, and he even knows Isabela!"

" 'Twitch'? That's an, odd name for a warrior. Is there a story behind it?"

_Twitch?_ Aramil blinked at the conversation the elven girl was having with the dwarf, Isabela just looked highly amused off to the side. _Oh no.._ "I'm sorry, but my name isn't, 'Twitch'." he butted in before this could get any worse. _Thanks Isabela.._ "It's actually Aramil. I'm afraid '_Twitch_' is just a pet name the pirate," he flashed Isabela a look, "gave me."

Merrill looked up at him, still latched to his arm. "Why would she call you 'Twitch' then?"

"Because", Isabela laughed as she interrupted, "it's what his cock does when another man is balls deep-"

"Isabela!"

Varric threw his head back in laughter at the sight before him, the newcomer glaring daggers at Rivaini while Daisy wrapped around the elf's arm, looking confusedly at the both of them.

"Why would his pet rooster react when someone is 'balls deep'?"

"I'll explain it you one day, Daisy," Varric said as he moved to get Merrill and free the poor man. "I would apologize for Rivaini's behavor, but you seem to know her. How about she just makes it up to you instead with a round of drinks, 'Twitch'?"

Aramil groaned, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose- he was never going to hear the end of this, now. "Knowing Isabela, with drinks involved, she'll just end up on top again.."

"Hey! You liked it last time."

Varric laughed again- he had the feeling he was going to like this elf if the man kept this up, as he ushered the group to a table and signaled Edwina for a round. If what he heard while at the top of the stairs when this all started, was correct- Isabela called him a 'Warden', and that meant he'd seen battles. Blondie hardly shared his battle stories; Varric hoped this Warden would be different. Besides, drinking was more enjoyable in groups if they were gambling, or sharing crazy stories- and Varric was running out of ideas for his own.

* * *

><p>They had just returned from the Wounded Coast when they entered their normal haunt, the sun well below horizon by this point. They all needed a rest after clearing our the newest nest of upstart bandits, so of course Hawke had dragged all of them- Anders, Fenris, and Sebastian, down here. They had just opened the door when the sound of a familiar voice reached Anders' ears and dread settled upon his stomach.<p>

"Oh Maker, not this..", he managed as he pushed past his confused lover and companions. Hawke reached out to grab him, but she was too late as he rushed up to the group drinking around one of the larger tables on the tavern's first floor. Unfortunately, Anders was also too late to stop the words that tumbled out of speaker's mouth next.

"So there he is, surrounded by burning templar and darkspawn bodies- the keep is _crawling_ with darkspawn at this point by the way." Aramil was explaining as he put down his drink, spreading his hands and wiggling fingers to imitate crawling creepies as he continued his story. "And all Anders can tell me while he's shaking his hands, smoke still rising from the tips of his fingers, is: '_I didn't do it'_!"

_Anything, anything but this story!_ Anders looked down at the group, having caught their attention after they had finished sharing a good laugh at his expense over something years ago. Marian and the rest of their little group had caught up now, she was smirking at the helpless look on his face. _I never told them about Aramil, and with reason._

" '_I didn't do it_'? That's right behind 'I'm innocent, guardsman!' " she said to him.

* * *

><p>"Anders! There you are!" Aramil looked up once realizing the attention of the little party was no longer focused on him. "We were just talking about you!"<p>

He was grinning, his cheeks slightly flushed. He hadn't drunk _that_ much, but it still had been a few hours since earlier, and Isabela was so very relentless. Just a few drinks to sip away at, and they had been sharing stories for a bit now. Plus it was warm in here, with Isabela pressed against his arm and everything. _This places needs more windows, get a breeze in here_, he mused, before focusing back on the amusing look on Anders' face.

He waved at the new group behind his friend, "More friends of yours, too! Come, join us. I might have just spoiled the best part, but there's still more."

The scraping of chairs was heard as they made room for the new comers. Anders had no choice as Marian forced him to take a seat next to Merrill. "Oh this I have to hear." she said as she leaned down against her mage's feathery shoulder.

"I'll be more that happy to share! But first, introductions are in order, don't you think so Anders?" Aramil raised a brow at Anders before looking over the new members at the table, his glaze lingering on Fenris last. "Oh, this one I remember! From the clinic last night, no? I'm afraid I never got your name."

Anders groaned as he heard Marian chuckle above him, running a hand over his face. "Fenris- Aramil, Aramil- this is Fenris, Sebastian, and Hawke."

Fenris gave him a polite nod and a slight smile, "Thank you, for your help last night. It is good to see there is more ways than magic to help heal people."

Aramil just raised his brow slightly higher at the comment before quickly glancing to Anders. Sobering slightly as he realized Anders hadn't been truthful to the other elf about his help the other night. He turned his attention back to Fenris, his grin fading to just a slight tug at the corner of his lips. "Yes well, I've seen all kinds of wounds during my adventures now. One must learn to make do if they're not a healer."

"A smart view." Fenris flashed Anders a quick look, "One would wish others would be so wise to realize magic isn't the way to solve everything."

The rest of the group had grown quiet during their shared words, a few of them giving awkward glances in Hawke's direction, but she ignored them and Anders' tensing shoulders as realization dawned on her.

"You were in the clinic last night?" she stood up straight, placing her hands on Anders' shoulders, "You have my thanks, for helping him with me". She reached up to rub the back of her neck.

The smile returned to Aramil's face as he looked away from Fenris to Hawke. "Think nothing of it, Anders would have done the same in my place."

"I'm right here. You can stop talking about me as if I'm not, you know."

Marian reached down to squeeze her mage's shoulder, "Sorry love. So you're a friend of Anders'. Did you know him in Ferelden?"

"Of course, we're both Grey Wardens. We met during our time together back in Vigil's Keep."

Marian leaned back down on the feathered shoulders, her interest returning. "The Hero of Ferelden saved the Keep after the Blight they say. Did you guys ever meet him?"

Isabela chuckled from his shoulder, "Oh they know him alright- ow!" She began to protest at Aramil suddenly stepping on her foot, but the look Anders was giving her gave her pause. Everyone else didn't notice as they were looking at both her and Aramil after her little outburst.

"Something wrong, Rivaini?"

"N-no. just hit the back of my foot on the chair.." she muttered.

"Anyways, to answer your question- No, I myself did not serve him at the Keep, but he was the one to recruit Anders.", he flashed Anders a smile, the human raising his own brow slightly as he realized the game the elf was playing.

"Practically flipped off the Templars that had been chasing me, in front of King Alistair, no less," Anders added for his friend.

"Why am I not surprised, since the Hero is a mage himself?" Fenris rolled his eyes as he cut in. Aramil was starting to pick up the other elf's attiude about magic. _This _will_ be fun_, he thought as he picked up his drink to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

"Is being a mage that bad?" Aramil asked, leaning to his side as he smiled to the other male elf. "I've been told they can be very skilled, with their hands."

"That's putting it lightly," Isabela snorted into her own drink.

"So Rivaini has mentioned before," Varric added as he leaned back in his own seat, a half empty flagon of ale in his hand.

"If mages are so good with their hands, it's only for them to use them as daggers when they turn on you later," Fenris sneered, narrowing his eyes as he ignored the drink that was placed in front of him.

"Oh I don't know, Fenris..", Marian spoke as she leaned over Anders shoulder to get her own drink, flashing them a dirty look as she did so. "A little pain is always exciting, if you ask me. Right Anders?"

Anders groaned as half the table erupted in laughter, Aramil included, while Fenris sat brooding at Hawke's joke, Sebastian looking uncomfortable as always when their conversations went south, and Merrill.. just looking as blissfully oblivious to what was going on around her as always.

"So, er- Aramil," Sebastian politely cut in once the laughter had died down again.

"Hm?" Aramil mused as he lifted his drink to his lips.

"Being a Fereldan Grey Warden, you might not have met him at Vigil's Keep, but surely you have come across him during your duty." Sebastian paused to take a polite sip of the drink placed in front of him. "Would you not have to at least report to him once? I'm curious as to what the man is like. Not many people can say they've gotten to meet the actual agent of the Maker who stopped the Blight. Especially one that is a mage."

_Agent.. of the.._ Aramil found him self choking on his drink at the other man's words. His lungs burned as he doubled over in his seat, trying to breathe but finding his airway full of the tavern's swill. A heavy slap to his back caused him to begin coughing uncontrollably as his lungs became clear once more.

_This person, he couldn't actually be serious, could he? _Aramil lifted his head up, getting a good look at the man through watery eyes. _Great, the religious Chantry type.._

"_What?_" was all Aramil could manage.

Sebastian blinked in confusion. "Are you alright, serah?"

Regaining control of his body, he forced himself to remain seated as he thoughts roiled, instead gripping the armrests- his gauntlets hiding his white knuckles. "You, _seriously_, believe that?"

"Elthina says-"

"Has the _Grand Cleric ever met him?_"

"No, but-"

"Then don't go about assuming things about people you don't know anything about!" His fingers dug into the wood of the chair, his fury surfacing as his voice rose at the foolish Chantry boy across from him. "I-He was forced to race around the country, forced to solve everyone's stupid pointless problems even though the Wardens held _treaties that demanded those same people to aid the Wardens. And you're telling me that he's apparently some force of the Maker- who through him, actually stopped the Blight?_"

Nervous glances spread across the table. All but three were worried about the outburst, as others in the building had stopped talking and were now looking at the group. Anders and Isabela shared worried looks as they caught his slip. Varric caught it as well, but keeping his mouth shut as there was apparently something going on here that he was unaware of.

"If the Maker truly wished to step in and stop the Blight as you say he did, he would have shown himself in another way, instead of using a group of youth that hardly knew what they were doing to do His dirty work for him, _especially someone 'cursed with magic'_ as your Chantry makes us believe.", his nostrils flared as he forced his emotions back down under control. "Forgive me. The Grey Warden's history in Ferelden is a… sensitive subject to some of us in the Order."

Sebastian swallowed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding during the Warden's rant. "Of course," he nodded slightly as he stood up, ignoring the feeling of blood rushing to his ears "We're all entitled to our views. Please excuse me- I have matters I have forgotten about."

Marian let out a low whistle as they watched him leave, her head turned back to the group. "Well done," she grinned as the tension in air began to fade. "He's always had some quote or words of wisdom when someone's disagreed with the Chantry in the past. Him storming out is a first."

"Our guest does make a good point though, to think if there was a Maker, that he would work through a mage- is simply foolish." Fenris crossed his arms as the corner of his lips twitched in smugness.

"That's not the point." Aramil sighed as the last of his anger faded. Shaking his head as he waved for a new drink, needing one for sure after that. "It doesn't matter now.."

"Yes, it does!" Anders spoke up, drawing annoyed looks from the both elves, but for different reasons.

"It doesn't matter. Right. Now." Aramil spoke slowly as he narrowed his eyes at the other mage, lifting up his new drink.

"Clearly our new friend is right," Varric cut in before things went sour a second time. "Such talk ruins the mood. Perhaps another story, Twitch?"

The dwarf grinned at the elf's wince at hearing his nickname, as he stirred the conversation back to lighter notes. "So are you just passing through, or does 'Warden Business' have you here for a while?"

"Just passing through, actually." Aramil explained. "I was heartbroken to hear our dear Isabela's Siren's sad fate, as I need crossing back to Denerim. And the time she showed me belowdecks was very much enjoyable. Shame I will never get to see such sights again.." He sighed wistfully, frowning playfully at the woman.

"Oh, she still gives tours from what I've heard." Laughter broke out around the table once more at Fenris' sudden comment. Once it had died down, Marian looked up from wiping something from here eye, tilting her head at Aramil.

"Wait. Why did he call you 'Twitch'?"

_'Fuck'_ was all Aramil could manage to think before Isabela's hand slapped over his mouth, muffling his words. Anders quickly clamped his hands around Merrill's ears as the pirate jumped in to explain his old commander's name the second time today, this time uninterrupted.

* * *

><p>I know, not a really a HawkeAnders update, but one I had to get out of the way as it covered things that _really_ bothered me with the Chantry when playing. It does wrap up Surana's visit though, and now I can focus my attention on Hawke/Anders!

Importantly though, I have to give a huge freaking thanks to my wonderful friend who had taken the time to 'beta read' my work- does anyone else find it silly that it's called 'beta reading'? Erm, right- without her help point out my mistakes, and her enjoyment over reading my drafts- I would never of gotten the courage to post these.


	3. Sisters

Another update! With just Hawke/Anders!

Posting this took longer than I would of liked, but I was completely distracted last week by vacations and spring break for schools. That's past now though, so hopefully I'll be updating more again.

**Also, important!** I started writing this after Aramil's visit, but this actually takes place right after returning from the Deep Roads expedition at the end of Act 1. Sorry for it being out of order and any confusion that it might cause. The next piece _should_ be back the correct time order. Also, I hate titles.

* * *

><p><em>'This is your fault.'<em>

Mother's words rang in her ears as she fled from Uncle's house. She had run away like a coward as she heard those words all over again, leaving her mother sobbing on a filthy floor as Gamlen tried to comfort her.

Not knowing where she went, driven solely by the need to _get out, _she stumbled as she ran down streets. It had been late enough in the day when they had returned after being in the Deep Roads for almost a week that it was early evening now. The traffic was light enough as people finished working and were heading home or to a tavern for her to get far away as fast as was possible. Tears welled up during all of this, threatening to spill. '_Not now, not here.. people will talk.. word would get back to Uncle_. '

She stopped at the side of a street, arms wrapped around herself as if it would help hold back the emotions that were warring inside of her. She clamped her eyes shut, those tears held back by will alone, as she leaned to her side against a wall while she caught her bearings. Her gut clenched when she realized where she was. She didn't have to open her eyes; the smell of the sea assaulted her as she caught her breath.

Scraping the palm of her hands on stone as she push herself off in a hurry, she spun around- fleeing for the second time that day as her mother's words hounded her with each step.

_'This is your fault.'_

* * *

><p>It was late. When the streets got dark was usually when sane people sought the safety inside doors.<p>

Yet here he was-by himself- on those very same streets, trying to find her. Of course, to think of himself as sane was just hypocritical- and he would be the first to admit that. They were all trying to find her, though. Varric had come down to his clinic hours after both of them had gotten back to Kirkwall to explain the situation.

They had been planning to gather for drinks, to celebrate their return and success, once they finished getting cleaned up and Hawke finished telling Bethany the good news.

Instead what actually ended up happening was after everyone else had gathered at the Hanged Man, Hawke and Bethany never showed. Checking her Uncle's place ended up with no clues, and that was why Varric was down at his clinic- telling Anders the news while he had sat on his cot in just a pair of clean pants and light undershirt. He hadn't been at the gathering because he said he was too worn out from being near so many darkspawn. Really though, he didn't feel like being a stick in the mud. Tonight was supposed to be a night for Hawke to let loose, and _that_ just opened a whole can of worms he just wasn't up for. Instead he simply planned on getting cleaned up and then having some _fantastic_ troubled sleep.

Which lead to why he was here now. They all could tell that _something_ was wrong; they just didn't know what.

Just as the others were about to call it a night, he finally found her. He was searching Darktown yet again, when he spotted a figure sitting on the outside of one of the railings that gave protection against the sharp cliffs leading into the harbor.

* * *

><p>Marian didn't hear the person approaching from behind, instead studying the water below her as her feet dangled over the side of the cutout in the cliff. She didn't even want to admit to the thoughts that were going through her head currently. '<em>If only my companions could see me now...'<em>

So distracted by her own doubts, she nearly jumped off the cliff in shock when a voice called out to her. Her stomach dropped as she felt herself beginning to go over, but a strong grip on the back of her armor stopped her before she slipped too far.

"Maker's ass, woman. What gave you the idea that a cliff was a good place to zone out?" Anders snapped as muscles strained to pull her back to safety. "Why did you disappear on us? We've been trying to find you all night."

She didn't resist as he dragged her back; the actual act of falling off shook her out of her melancholy slightly. Instead she just leaned back against the railing, staring at hands resting in her lap.

"Normally it's me that has that look. What has gotten into you, Hawke?" Anders asked as his eyebrows furrowed. His arms were crossed as he stood on the other -safer- side. All of this felt reversed; it was always Hawke that joked that she had to play the patience game when it came to dealing with his moods. To see her like this though… worry gnawed in the back of his thoughts.

"She's gone."

Anders blinked in confusion; Hawke's voice was nearly inaudible, and he had to lean down closer to her level to hear her. Just like a child who was shier than a barn mouse, he realized he would have to approach this carefully to get reasoning out of this new persona of Hawke.

"Who's gone?" his voice was gentle, calm. The urge to reach down and touch her shoulder was overwhelming- making connection could be helpful in matters like this, yet.. _Don't fall to __sloth/__old habits._ The voice was Justice's yet also his; they were the same, yet at once so very different. He forced the thoughts to the side, focusing instead at the moment at hand as the tips of his fingers brushed a shoulder before falling to his side. "Hawke, what happened?"

Her hands clenched in her lap, nails biting into palms. Part of her noted the feeling, relishing in it if it made her feel _something_ besides this darkness that clutched her chest. Anders probing brought back the memories she tried to run away from though. She pressed her chin against her chest, eyes shutting tight to stop the tears that threatened once again- _I can't!_- before speaking through gritted teeth.

"Bethany. They... They took her." Hawke reached up to quickly wipe away a traitorous tear.

Knuckles turned white as Anders gripped the railing. Anyone else -if it had been Aveline who found her, or Isabela, or or.. - '_Maker forbid'_ selfish rage surged through him as he thought of the elf... they would have asked her to explain. But no- it was him, and she would never have to explain what those words meant. Memories of a village, a woman crying as she reached out for something flashed through his mind. The fear of darkness surrounding him; the sense of a cold stone wall against his back, his thoughts the only company as he lost all sense of time. Justice screamed for retribution in his head; for _vengeance_, as he forced all of those horrible thoughts away. Willpower alone stopped his skin from crackling with streaks of blue- Hawke was the only one around him currently and the thought of ripping her head off...

"I'm sorry" Hawke's voice cracked as she curled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. Not noticing Anders' own struggle, she rocked slightly against the metal. It was getting harder to hold back the tears as she continued. "I couldn't stop them- they just took her and I did nothing. She asked me...and I let them take her."

The sob that escaped from her as she finished shook him out of his merged-stupor. The thought of causing harm to..'_No_'..shame washed over him at realizing his lapse into weakness. He had to keep control, and right now Hawke needed him. Perhaps not him specifically, but just- someone.

_'She is a distraction.'_

He mentally snarled at that nagging voice; and for the first time since he fled to Kirkwall, he ignored it as he climbed over onto Hawke's side. "Don't say that." he told her as he sat down next to her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms to comfort her, but the same part of him that sees her as a distraction forced him to stay at a _frustratingly_ close distance. "I know you wouldn't have just of let them take her. And so did Beth; she didn't want to see you get hurt."

Marian's shoulders shook next to him; he struggled against himself as he saw that the woman was clearly hurting. He was a coward though- '_That's not it. I'm only protecting her'_. Protect her from what? That thought filled him with more dread, so many things that he was afraid of that he couldn't even begin to pick out in his mind. His shoulders sighed as he brought his attention back to Hawke.

"We were going to get Mother's estate back. Beth would talk to me about the dresses she would buy once I got back from the trip. How she was going plant flowers outside her windows.." Another sob wracked through her body.

It was too much for Anders - Justice could choke on a broodmother's saggy tit – and he quickly pulled Hawke into his embrace. "It'll be okay, _she'll be alright_. Just because some of us don't, doesn't mean all mages can't find purpose within the Circle." He forced himself to believe his words as Marian's body shook as sobs overtook her. "Bethany is a strong girl. She has a loving family close by and she knows that. I'm sure you'll be able to at lease visit her, and she'll be able to walk the courtyards."

* * *

><p>They stayed like, neither saying anything else as Anders let Hawke's breakdown run its course. It wasn't until the sky had begun to lighten that Marian composed herself. Justice was oddly silent during his vigil over the woman.<p>

"Maker, I'm a wreck." Marian muttered as she pushed herself free from the mage. She looked away from him as she went back to just sitting next to him. "Thank you, for letting me have that.."

There was still that note of sorrow in her voice as she spoke, but it wasn't as crushing as before. She still ached over the loss of her sister. The thought of returning to her Uncle's place was still out of the question, but at lease she felt like she could actually breathe again. Which meant.. Marian cursed as she ran a hand over her hair; her grimy, filthy hair. Realization dawned that Anders had held her for hours without complaint- in the same armor she had worn the past week- and she snapped her head back to get a look at him.

His shirt was a mess, patches of grime where she had rested was only made worse by her crying. He would be lucky if it didn't ended up staining

"Oh Anders.."

She was a pitiful sight. Hair a mess, her face wasn't any better off as dirty smudges ran down her cheeks. At lease the dirt hid some of the red patchiness from her fit, but it was a hollow victory.

Without a word, Anders pushed himself off the ground; there was no point on trying to dust himself off- he would just have to change outfits again. His clinic wasn't too far from here, either.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up" he reached down for her hand, and she didn't resist when he pulled her up to her feet. It was just easier to be led right now. The rest of their companions could wait until later to find out she was safe; right now she needed to get cleaned up then rest. His place was the closet, so that's where he took her. Placing his hands on Marian's shoulders, he forced her to sit down on a cot while he went to draw a bath as best he could in the back of the building. It wasn't perfect; a small tub of water could be barely considered a proper bath, but by the use of his magic he was able to at least make it warm and steamy.

He went back to Marian, who was sitting exactly where he had left her, giving in to long-ignored exhaustion. Their silence during all of this was oddly eerie, she didn't react as she was dragged to the back and placed in front of the water. She didn't look up as she took an offered towel and was left alone as he drew shut the curtains that were hung up to provide privacy.

Limp fingers reached up to undo buckles on her light armor once she heard Anders' footsteps as he left her on her own. Armor and underclothing piled up on the ground where she let them fall down. Her mind sank into blissful numbness when she was finally able to dip a bare foot into the tub. After trudging through tunnels filled with darkspawn, rock wraiths and worse, the warm waters were worth more than any treasure that they had brought back. Shame shot through her again as she enjoyed such a simple moment. _'How can I think of such things when Beth is locked up in _that prison_?'_ She forced her doubts down as she forced her the rest of her body in. She couldn't submerge herself fully, but she could at lease crouch in it while scrubbing the grime off. There was a bucket next to the tub that she could use to drench her head, which she did before making use of the cake-soap that Anders apparently had a liking for as she recognized its harsh scent.

The water had lost all its warmth by the time Marian finally felt almost human again and left the tub. She didn't know how she was going to manage the trip back to Uncle's shack as she dried herself off. She cringed as she looked down at the pile of her filthy clothing on the floor, the thought of putting them back on was almost worse than the idea of walking back up to Lowtown. It would seem that Anders heard that she was finished, though, and saved her from the former at lease by sticking his hand around the curtain with an offering of his own spare clothing. It was just a simple linen shirt, much like the one she always seen him wearing under his open robes. That wasn't a problem since he was larger than Marian, and when she put it on she noticed it ended up being more a small dress than a shirt. The thought of wearing such a thing while marching back home brought a slight flush to her cheeks… though that was the least of her problems as she moved out from behind the curtain.

Anders fortunately seemed to have worked out that issue while she was washing, and was waiting for her. He was in a similar clean shirt again, and breeches and bare feet. It was clear he wasn't going out again.

"You'll stay here until you've rested up." he chewed on his bottom lip as if he wasn't completely comfortable with her being here. "We're both too worn out to even think of dealing with Darktown's tunnels."

Marian didn't doubt his words, getting a good look at him finally. There were shadows under his eyes, his constant five o'clock shadow managing to look scruffier than usual, and his shoulders were slouched while he stood his ground. Marian simply nodded, there was no point in arguing with him.

"Come on, you'll pass out if you just keep standing there." Anders sighed as he grabbed her elbow and led her to a room in the very back of the clinic. Marian blinked in confusion as she noticed the room for the first time. How had she managed to never notice this place before, she pondered. There was another curtain that separated it from the rest of the place, and it was clearly Anders's room as there was a bed pressed against a wall. A small stool next to it held an oil lantern and above that on the wall was a shelf that held a few books.

"Get some sleep, that's an order. I'll crash on a cot." Anders moved to leave, but a warm, soft hand grabbed his own, causing him to stop as he looked back to Hawke in puzzlement.

"Don't.." Marian looked up, crystal blue eyes pleading up at his own warm brown ones. Disapproval flashed through him, forcing him to begin to move his hand out of hers. Her hand only tightened around his; perhaps she had sense some of his disapproval through his eyes. That familiar Hawke flared for a moment before it fled just as quickly, and she let his hand go.

"I'm sorry.. Just the thought of being alone.." Marian felt her chest clenched as her voice drifted off. She wished he could understand; explaining was just too hard for her right now. She had shared a bunk with her sister for the past year, and the idea of sleeping by herself was just _unspeakable_. She just needed someone to be close by right now.

"Alright.." Anders words made her look up in surprise. She thought for sure he would leave, forcing her to face her fears, and her lips tried to smile in thanks. "Just lie down."

Marian nodded as she scooted back onto the bed and lay down, pulling the blanket over her. It wasn't a perfect bed, but definitely an improvement compared to the thin mat on the bunks she shared _'with Mother'_, she forced her thoughts to finish with as she clenched her teeth. Dread filled her stomach as Anders left the room, but she let out a sign of relief as he returned carrying extra blankets.

"I just spent the last few days sleeping on hard rock." Anders seemed to sense Marian's concern as he shook out the blankets and began setting them up on the floor in a nest. "I see no reason why I should have to again."

Marian smiled weakly, flushing slightly at her own foolishness and for forcing the man out of his own bed. "I'm sor-"

"Don't be." Anders interrupted before she could finish as he settled down, propping himself up on an elbow as he reached up to blow out the lantern. "I've slept on worse back in Ferelden. I'm not some delicate flower."

Darkness flooded the room as he finished and Marian could hear shifting as Anders finished getting comfortable.

"Anders?" Marian was lying on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling as she rested her arms over her own blanket. It had been a few minutes now since the lights went out, and she could hear his steady breathing as he laid there on the floor. The sound was comforting in its own way.

"Hm?" his voice was groggy, it was clear he wouldn't be awake for much longer.

"Thanks..."

"Oh.. 'course.." Anders voice was broken up by a yawn. Marian could feel her exhaustion looming over her; it was getting harder to keep her own eyes open. "I'm always here... if you need me, Hawke."

* * *

><p>Annnd that's enough angst for me for right now. I'm currently working on the next piece and it should be much more cheerful than this.<p>

Special thanks to my beta. I wasn't happy with this one-shot at first, writing paragraphs only to hate them the next day and completely rewrite them. I would be nowhere near as happy posting this without her insight and suggestions!


	4. Interlude

_'There are no merciful gods,' _Varric thought as he ground his teeth. If there were, he would have been struck deft when he woke up this morning. It would save him the torture he was being put through now, as he tried to work on the next piece of his story. The dwarf would think today would turn out to be enjoyable; there were no current pressing matters that Bianca needed to solve. No new reports that he had to lighten his coinpurse to keep Daisy or Blondie safe, and even the Qunari seemed to be content in the docks for once. So why couldn't he get comfortable and relax?

Marian Hawke was bored.

Since Kirkwall was all quiet, that meant his friend didn't have anything _to do_. So she had come sulking into his suite, complaining on just that. Everyone else seemed to have found other things to occupy their time, which she was just as quick to add to her rant.

Aveline was busy learning the ropes to being a Guard Captain. "I swear, she's always on the rag now. Sneak into her office one time and suddenly I'm the bad guy and can't be left alone for a minute at the Keep." Varric raised an eyebrow as he watched Hawke throw herself down into one of his chairs.

"On top of that; everyone and their dogs decided to get sick today, so Anders is up to his elbows in healing. The Templars have some new excuse of why I can't see Beth- of all the chairs in this city, why do I have to sit in the one made for a dwarf's ass?" Hawke whined as she failed to get comfortable. "I didn't even try Fenris - whenever he opens his mouth I can't decide if I want to strangle him, or kiss him so he'll finally shut up."

"If that's what's on your mind, perhaps you'll have better luck at the Rose." Varric didn't hide his mirth as he rested his chin in his palm, leaning on the armrest of his chair.

"Ugh, no. Last time I found myself there, Uncle Gamlen was getting frisky with a female elf whose voice was definitely _not_ feminine." Hawke blanched, giving up on getting comfortable and just sprawled out across the arms of the chair.

Varric laughed at that image. "Point taken. You're still settling in at your new place, aren't you? You must have things that need to be done there."

"Mother has taken up that task without asking. If I was there, I'd just get in the way. Or worse, she'd ask my opinion about if the curtains should be frilly or have ruffles. Is there even a difference?" Hawke had pulled out a piece of string while talking, tying both ends together before entwining the piece between her fingers.

Chuckling at her question, Varric sat back up and picked up his quill again. The sound of parchment scratching filled the room again as Hawke seemed to be distracted by the pattern forming between her hands. "I'm sure the nobles could tell the difference if you asked."

"Don't get me started on those people, Varric. They're either more stuck up than Aveline, or they're so Orlesian that even I think it's awkward." Hawke signed as she gave up on the string, leaning her head back until blood began rushing to her head. "Remind me again why I thought living there was a good idea."

"The bed in your uncle's shack. Need I explain more?"

"Right." Hawke cringed as she sat up. "Suppose there are worse things than living in the middle of the part town filled with pious nobles."

"The word behind closed doors is they're just as excited about you moving in as you are being around them." Varric's lips twisted into a smirk as he continued to scribble away, not bothering to look up at the woman. "They thought having Broody up there was bad enough; clearly the only option to go forward with now is for the both of you to cause a scandalous scene in public. Bonus if he starts smiling then."

"You're a horrible friend, you know." A breath brushing against his ear caused his hand to jump slightly. He frowned at the new inkblot that ruined the parchment, seeming to ignore the fact Hawke had managed to sneak up behind him. "Why must you tease me so? Fenris gets me all confused, and Anders is always finding some new excuse to be busy..It's been so long since I've simply enjoyed the company of a man."

Varric raised an eyebrow as he tried to salvage his writing. "Sadly, I'm spoken for."

"Is this about Bianca? She could watch, or join in if she likes." Hawke pouted as she undid his ponytail before running her fingers through his hair. Her lips brushed against his ear as she leaned slightly over his chair. "I couldn't say no to such a beautiful lady. I've seen the looks she's been giving me recently, don't deny this."

Hawke couldn't stop from smirking as she heard her friend swallow.

"Stop it. You're confusing her, Hawke."

The sound of Hawke's laughter caused Varric to look up. She was standing up again, grinning as she rested her hand on her hip. "You thought I was serious? Oh, the look on your face right now!"

"You are an evil woman, messing with poor Bianca's head like that."

"She enjoyed it and you know it. Come on, let's get drinks, I'll even pay." Hawke waved to him over her shoulder as she headed out of his room.

"You'd better be paying after that stunt," Varric muttered, following - what dwarf could refuse a free drink?

"I suppose it is fair, after being on your tab for so long now. I could start my own." Hawke said as she looked around as they finished the small trek to the taproom.

Isabela and Merrill were already there, sitting at a table as they engaged in a game of cards. With nod of her head, Hawke went to get their drinks, while Varric headed over to their friends' table.

Varric had settled himself with the women and already dealt himself into their game when Hawke joined them. "Isabela dear, teaching her Wicked Grace now? I thought you said it would be body shots next time?"

"Hawke! Isabela said those would be later." Merrill piped in, holding up her cards while Hawke placed Varric's drink down next to him. "She's helping me understand cards right now. It's fun."

"Oh? It's not really teaching if your instructor is constantly cheating." Hawke spoke as she took her own seat, giving said woman a look.

"As if I need reason to cheat when playing against you, sweet thing."

"It's not that bad, Hawke. I've won once already, you should really join us."

"Yes, join us Hawke. We could always use more of your coin." Varric added helpfully as the trio continued their game.

"Somehow I feel I would be better off just sticking to getting drunk," Hawke muttered into her cup before drawing a hand.

"So, shall we make this interesting?" Isabela asked, flashing a grin before taking a drink from her cup.

Wincing at the pirate's words, Hawke glanced down at her hand. _'Wonderful..'_ "How about we don't? Last time you made things interesting, I woke up in my smallclothes in your bed."

Varric raised a brow as he discarded a card and redrew. "You've been holding out information on me, Hawke."

"Why would Hawke be in your bed?" Merrill blinked in confusion as she stared at Isabela instead of her cards.

"Sometimes friends share things, Daisy."

"Oh, that makes sense." Merrill smiled innocently as she focused down at her cards. "You know, Anders and Fenris don't really seem like the sharing type. It's a shame really."

"Merrill.." Hawke could only stare at her friend, at a loss for words as her mind ran away with the idea of Anders and Fenris sharing anything. Varric was trying to hold back laughter, and Isabela had a wide grin on her face; there was no doubt the pirate was having similar thoughts.

"Hm, yes Hawke?" Merrill blinked as she looked up, catching everyone's expressions finally. "Did I say something wrong again?"

Hawke forced herself to shake her head, the images weren't helping and her body protested as she forced herself to think about something else. '_Like cards, cards are good. Hey look at that, that's not quite as bad a hand as I first thought.'_

Taking a long drink from her mug, Hawke finally trusted herself to speak as her mind calmed. "No Merrill, you're fine." Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back from grinning at the confused girl. "Anders and Fenris indeed don't seem like the sharing type. So back about interesting.. How about winner picks who pays for each round of drinks? Sound good, yes? Great! I'll even get us started- Norah!"

Hawke waved to get the barmaid's attention as the group settled back into their game. It risked waking up naked in Isabela's bed again – she wasn't even sure what had _happened_ last time – but it was better than dealing with the frustration of picturing just what or _who_ she wished Anders and Fenris would share right now.

_'I _really_ need to get laid soon if this keeps up.'_ Hawke sighed to herself as Varric won the first the first hand. Isabela winked at her as she was forced to signal to the bar for another round of drinks, sure this was payback for being on his tab all these past couple years. '_Scratch that, maybe Varric was right. Maybe the Rose would have been a better choice today.'_

* * *

><p>Well, this piece somehow managed to take me longer than I liked, specially for how short it is.<p>

This finishes up the time between Act 1 & 2. Next piece will begin looking into Hawke's relationship with our favorite Warden apostate. I might also start doing some rewrites and putting pieces into order as I go along. I'm finally getting comfortable with writing this since posting the first piece.

Anyways, hope folks have enjoyed this so far! Reviews are always nice as I'm interested in folk's thoughts about where I'm going with this, but I'm not worrying over it too much.


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